Payback's a bitch (and so am I)

One amusing aspect of my career move is that I am now in the position to give work to the Poison Dwarf, aka PD*.  They aren't anything major-league, more like newsletter mastheads and similar. But it still gives me a warm feeling to give her orders.

Better yet, I'm fairly sure she doesn't like it much. For the past few weeks, she found excuses not to work on the simple job I asked her about in January. First, we needed to talk to someone at the NYC Borg about branding (sounds like bullshit to me). Then, the Marketing Manager who was going to manage the project quit.

I finally managed to deliver a smallish order to her last week. Having heard nothing from her yet, I decided to do the Passive Aggressive Email Tweak, which is to cc your boss when asking a slacker co-worker why something hasn't been finished. 

It worked well as she a) emailed me back within three minutes, and b) promised to have draft designs to me by EOD.

Bwa ha ha.

* See Key to Characters at right.

Timewaster du jour

Life's hell in the east

I have always viewed my year in the Philippines with mixed feelings. Although the inability to even look for work was frustrating - being idle drives me spare, even when I can afford it - I have always thought that the Filipinos are extremely gracious people, especially when you consider how the Marcos regime plundered their country for decades.

I don't have many photos of that year, but I found this one recently. It was taken at the Batangas golf course some 30 miles south of Manila. Almost all of the caddies were women, and they always preferred to caddy for the Yanqui - mainly because we were not Japanese. (The Philippines is a popular golf destination for the Japanese, as they can play there for a week for the same price as they would pay for a single round back home.)

Unfortunately the color has already faded from this picture and I haven't had time to Photoshop it, but at least it's scanned for posterity. I still remember being embarrassed when the locals would compliment my pasty complexion. Most Asians crave pale skin in the way many Europeans crave a mahogany tan. You can literally buy bleach-based soap in any Manila grocery store, which is a popular item although I doubt it ever helped fade anyone's skin to mestizo paleness.

The rare gotta have it

Considering that I'm still working on reducing the clutter, unworn clothing, and similar at Chez Melina, I hardly ever buy anything these days that isn't edible or readable. Okay, the motorcycle doesn't fit into either category, but one has to deviate from the ordinary now and then.

Earlier today, a friend sent me a photo of a really cool porcelain tray. Although my dresser is already buried in similar tchotchkes, this one is seriously tempting. Even though I can't find it anywhere online for less than $50. 

Should I, or shouldn't I?

Need to park this somewhere before I forget

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." -Friedrich Nietzsche